Busy people running around, making last minute purchases for the impending holiday, students itching to start their vacation, trying to pack for the journey home, Christmas is upon us. Last night, I hardly slept, twisting and turning with anticipation of being home for the holidays.
With the blink of an eye, so passes more than four months abroad. When I think back on it, so much has happened in so little time. Research, work, travel, exploration, friendships - life has been so exciting, so rewarding lately, that I can't help but feel grateful for how wonderful life truly is.
As I left school today, teaching for the last time this year, I felt such great joy and accomplishment, having survived and blossomed in my new position. I enjoy my work, where I work, and with whom I work. Walking out of the building, with gift bottles of wine and Champagne under my arms, out under the magnificently blue sky, I felt pretty darn satisfied with how my life's made its path. I spent the afternoon in my favorite café and tonight I get to have one last dinner this term with my wonderful friends. Life is good, life is good, life is good. Despite whatever hardships you might be thrown, you'll always be drawn down a path in the end more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.
Six more months await, with lots of adventures to be had, with lessons to be learned, with friendships to be strengthened, but for now, it's time to step away and be at home. From the bottom of my heart, I wish all a Blessed Christmas and warm wishes for health and luck in the New Year.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
One More Week
Less than 7 days to go, and I'll be able to go home for Christmas. Even though there's plenty of teaching to be done, a seminar to attend, gifts to buy, and a party to hold, my mind's already dreaming of laying on the floor with my dogs, playing my piano (which I desperately, desperately miss), eating my parents' cooking, sleeping in my bed, driving, visiting friends and family, being home. In German, there's a beautiful word, "Heimat," which carries the meaning and feelings of a place where one is physically, spiritually, emotionally home - the place that calls to him whenever he is abroad, where memories reside, where one's completeness rests. As much as I love my life here, and that's quite a lot, it is not, cannot be my Heimat. It's only been three months since I've been home, and when at university, three months was a walk in the park. But, being thousands of miles and hours upon hours away, living amidst a different culture, working in a different language, being away from all things familiar, it can at times be rough. Thankfully, I've made some wonderful friends who have eased the transition and who have made homesickness a seldom appearing guest under my roof.
This past week was really busy, but also very rewarding. Pretty much since I arrived here, I've been writing away for grad school applications. In making the transition from psychology to history, I've had to make up a lot of ground in terms of writing scholarly papers using historical methodology, which was a process I had to entirely teach myself because most of the programs to which I applied required a writing sample of a history essay. At times, I felt like completing the applications was a job unto itself, often requiring hours at a time behind the keyboard, fastidiously typing away. I had to write a résumé, which I loathed. Chronicling my achievements in the best possible light - in a sense, advertising myself - really isn't my cup of tea, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I had a handful of excellent professors with whom I've formed friendships over the years write my letters of recommendation, and I wrote tailored personal statements for each program to which I applied. Overall, I only wrote about thirty pages, but these pages had to be so carefully worded, so articulate and precise, so concise and self-revealing that, at times, I perspired, trying to think of how best to phrase a sentence. It was the most demanding writing I've done yet, but hopefully it's not for naught - today, the very last application was submitted! Now the long wait, but I'm hopeful!
During the week, two friends and I met at the train station after dinner and rode about 30 minutes northeast of Salzburg to a tiny village on the Austro-German border called Oberndorf. One of my students sat next to us on the train, and he tried to hold a conversation with us. The lady sitting across from him was interested in practicing her English, too, apparently, and complimented our nice charisma, which was warmly received! As we stepped off the train, that same lady offered to take us to our destination. Across roads and down dark residential paths, we arrived after a brisk walk. Before us stood a small market square, an old grain mill, and, up on a low-rising hill, the tiniest free standing chapel I've ever seen. Inside this white chapel, covered in beautiful, soft snow, candles were lit and the Advent wreath hung above our heads. The chapel marks the spot where, nearly 200 years ago, a priest and a school teacher wrote and performed a simple song called "Stille Nacht," "Silent Night." I got pretty caught up in the moment - standing in a chapel no bigger than my kitchen, seeing the soft lights reflected in the fresh blanket of snow, realizing this was the spot where the world first heard one of the most famous Christmas carols, indeed, one of the most famous songs ever. It was the same song that British and German soldiers sang together on the front lines during a brief pause in fighting during the First World War on Christmas Eve 1914. After taking a moment in the chapel, we walked to the tiny Christkindlmarkt below, where only one of maybe a dozen stands was open. The vendor was serving warm drinks, and we tried the pear cider, which was outstanding. Afterwards, we decided to walk a long the Salzach river, the same that divides Salzburg, and which serves as the border between Austria and Germany. We came to a bridge after about five minutes, and crossed it into Germany. Halfway, we turned around and saw a magnificent illuminated staircase carved into the hillside, at the top of which stood a beautiful Baroque oratory to the Crucified Christ - breathtaking. We continued into the little city of Laufen, of which Oberndorf was once apart. During World War II, the city's centrally located castle served as a prison for captured British intelligence officers. The town was so pretty, blanketed in snow, silence, and Christmas lights. In the main square stood a tall Christmas tree, with lights all around the place. We continued and crossed another bridge back into Oberndorf. Probably the two most enchanting hours I've spent here so far - just wonderful, and so Christmas-y.
The other night, a few of us gathered at a friend's apartment for Chinese food and a movie. After a few tries of Austria's take on Chinese food, I think I've thrown in the towel. I know what we have back in the States isn't "real" Chinese food, but it's just so delicious! I miss it. Anyway, we watched my absolute favorite Christmastime movie: Love Actually. It's such a "feel good" movie, and I always, always laugh at a few of the scenes. My particular favorite is one featuring Alan Rickman (Prof. Snape) and Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean). Rickman's character wants to have a necklace gift wrapped in a department store, and Atkinson's character starts his job. After placing the necklace in a nice box, the clerk pulls out a clear plastic bag, to which Rickman says, "Oh, I don't need a bag." Clerk: Oh, this isn't a bag. This is so much more than a bag, sir. He then proceeds to scoop potpourri from a potpourri drawer into the bag, a cinnamon stick, and a sprig of holly, all to the disgruntled and hurried dismay of Rickman's character - I lose it every time, with tears in my eyes - hysterical! Just a wonderful movie about how people in love show their love, and it gets me into the Christmas mood like nothing else.
Santa Claus came a bit early this year. A few weeks ago, I wrote an essay for a competition within the Fulbright network, and it turns out I was selected as one of the winners! I'm going on an all-expenses paid trip to Luxembourg, Brussels, and Bruges the first week of March to attend conferences at NATO and the UN, and, of course, there's lots of sightseeing built into the week. I'm really, really excited because I think the opportunity to see how these bodies work will be interesting, and on top of that, I get to visit two countries I've always wanted to explore. The perks of this job keep revealing themselves, and I'm so thankful to be here.
We're throwing a Christmas party on Sunday, and I've volunteered to make lasagna. Had I known just how difficult it would have been to collect the ingredients, I mightn't have suggested it, but, I think we're set. "Italian sausage" is a purely American invention, I've come to realize. After scouring six big stores here, and three smaller Italian specialty shops, I had to resort to buying the ground pork and seasoning it myself - fingers crossed, it's edible! I'm using my mom's recipe, which, with the exception of the Immaculate Conception and the grammatical tense, is the only perfect thing in this universe. No pressure or anything, but I hope it comes out okay for everyone's sake. Wish me luck!
 |
| "'Don't you cry, I'll be back again some day.'" Perhaps Austria's only Frosty. |
This past week was really busy, but also very rewarding. Pretty much since I arrived here, I've been writing away for grad school applications. In making the transition from psychology to history, I've had to make up a lot of ground in terms of writing scholarly papers using historical methodology, which was a process I had to entirely teach myself because most of the programs to which I applied required a writing sample of a history essay. At times, I felt like completing the applications was a job unto itself, often requiring hours at a time behind the keyboard, fastidiously typing away. I had to write a résumé, which I loathed. Chronicling my achievements in the best possible light - in a sense, advertising myself - really isn't my cup of tea, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I had a handful of excellent professors with whom I've formed friendships over the years write my letters of recommendation, and I wrote tailored personal statements for each program to which I applied. Overall, I only wrote about thirty pages, but these pages had to be so carefully worded, so articulate and precise, so concise and self-revealing that, at times, I perspired, trying to think of how best to phrase a sentence. It was the most demanding writing I've done yet, but hopefully it's not for naught - today, the very last application was submitted! Now the long wait, but I'm hopeful!
During the week, two friends and I met at the train station after dinner and rode about 30 minutes northeast of Salzburg to a tiny village on the Austro-German border called Oberndorf. One of my students sat next to us on the train, and he tried to hold a conversation with us. The lady sitting across from him was interested in practicing her English, too, apparently, and complimented our nice charisma, which was warmly received! As we stepped off the train, that same lady offered to take us to our destination. Across roads and down dark residential paths, we arrived after a brisk walk. Before us stood a small market square, an old grain mill, and, up on a low-rising hill, the tiniest free standing chapel I've ever seen. Inside this white chapel, covered in beautiful, soft snow, candles were lit and the Advent wreath hung above our heads. The chapel marks the spot where, nearly 200 years ago, a priest and a school teacher wrote and performed a simple song called "Stille Nacht," "Silent Night." I got pretty caught up in the moment - standing in a chapel no bigger than my kitchen, seeing the soft lights reflected in the fresh blanket of snow, realizing this was the spot where the world first heard one of the most famous Christmas carols, indeed, one of the most famous songs ever. It was the same song that British and German soldiers sang together on the front lines during a brief pause in fighting during the First World War on Christmas Eve 1914. After taking a moment in the chapel, we walked to the tiny Christkindlmarkt below, where only one of maybe a dozen stands was open. The vendor was serving warm drinks, and we tried the pear cider, which was outstanding. Afterwards, we decided to walk a long the Salzach river, the same that divides Salzburg, and which serves as the border between Austria and Germany. We came to a bridge after about five minutes, and crossed it into Germany. Halfway, we turned around and saw a magnificent illuminated staircase carved into the hillside, at the top of which stood a beautiful Baroque oratory to the Crucified Christ - breathtaking. We continued into the little city of Laufen, of which Oberndorf was once apart. During World War II, the city's centrally located castle served as a prison for captured British intelligence officers. The town was so pretty, blanketed in snow, silence, and Christmas lights. In the main square stood a tall Christmas tree, with lights all around the place. We continued and crossed another bridge back into Oberndorf. Probably the two most enchanting hours I've spent here so far - just wonderful, and so Christmas-y.
 |
| "Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht." |
The other night, a few of us gathered at a friend's apartment for Chinese food and a movie. After a few tries of Austria's take on Chinese food, I think I've thrown in the towel. I know what we have back in the States isn't "real" Chinese food, but it's just so delicious! I miss it. Anyway, we watched my absolute favorite Christmastime movie: Love Actually. It's such a "feel good" movie, and I always, always laugh at a few of the scenes. My particular favorite is one featuring Alan Rickman (Prof. Snape) and Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean). Rickman's character wants to have a necklace gift wrapped in a department store, and Atkinson's character starts his job. After placing the necklace in a nice box, the clerk pulls out a clear plastic bag, to which Rickman says, "Oh, I don't need a bag." Clerk: Oh, this isn't a bag. This is so much more than a bag, sir. He then proceeds to scoop potpourri from a potpourri drawer into the bag, a cinnamon stick, and a sprig of holly, all to the disgruntled and hurried dismay of Rickman's character - I lose it every time, with tears in my eyes - hysterical! Just a wonderful movie about how people in love show their love, and it gets me into the Christmas mood like nothing else.
Santa Claus came a bit early this year. A few weeks ago, I wrote an essay for a competition within the Fulbright network, and it turns out I was selected as one of the winners! I'm going on an all-expenses paid trip to Luxembourg, Brussels, and Bruges the first week of March to attend conferences at NATO and the UN, and, of course, there's lots of sightseeing built into the week. I'm really, really excited because I think the opportunity to see how these bodies work will be interesting, and on top of that, I get to visit two countries I've always wanted to explore. The perks of this job keep revealing themselves, and I'm so thankful to be here.
We're throwing a Christmas party on Sunday, and I've volunteered to make lasagna. Had I known just how difficult it would have been to collect the ingredients, I mightn't have suggested it, but, I think we're set. "Italian sausage" is a purely American invention, I've come to realize. After scouring six big stores here, and three smaller Italian specialty shops, I had to resort to buying the ground pork and seasoning it myself - fingers crossed, it's edible! I'm using my mom's recipe, which, with the exception of the Immaculate Conception and the grammatical tense, is the only perfect thing in this universe. No pressure or anything, but I hope it comes out okay for everyone's sake. Wish me luck!
Monday, December 10, 2012
Hitchcock Without the Murder
Looking out my rear window, big snow flakes the size of cotton balls gently fall. It's been snowing for several day now, and it is cold, very cold. My building lines three-quarters of a central courtyard - a small apartment building and a hotel rounds off the fourth quarter. Across the way, I can see festive candles in windowsills, and families sitting down together to enjoy meals with each other. Birds sit in the now-barren trees, singing their last songs before they fly south towards the Mediterranean for the winter, a puppy plays in the fluffy snow - judging by his small size, its probably it's first time seeing snow. People sit on their balconies during the evening, smoking and drinking, reflecting on the day and relaxing in one another's company. The other night, I was in the middle of typing an essay when I heard one of my favorite sounds in the world - brass instruments playing Christmas carols. "Still, still, still," "Adeste Fideles," "Minuit, chrétiens," "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," "O Tannenbaum," "Stille Nacht," and "O du fröhliche." Six of them played in the cold courtyard below my window. Windows opened, and one by one, neighbors poked their heads out to get a better listen and to watch the musicians. More than anything, I think, traditional Christmas carols get me in the Christmas state of mind. Time-tested melodies and treasured lyrics that seem to put aside all of the riffraff that often surrounds this time of year - songs to which we all know the words, or at least how the tune goes. Christmas music is something which binds our cultures together - the same songs performed both here and at home. Listening to those musicians, seeing their brass instruments glisten in the lights coming from the hotel's Christmas trees, brought me to a place of warmth and familiarity. I could nearly smell the house on Christmas morning, with dinner in the oven. Each room is decorated with nutcrackers and angels, the tree stands tall and beautiful in the center of the living room. Mom in her robe and Dad in his slippers, the dogs rushing about all the excitement. Christmas cookies await in my grandmother's old tins on the counter top, and the Panetonne is sliced on the table. Too excited to sleep after Mass, I'm still a bit tired, but that doesn't matter - it's Christmas morning. Opening gifts and stockings, eating a tremendous meal with family, maybe going for a walk around the block, and, for one of the very few times of the year, simply, completely enjoying the day without a worry in sight. It's one of the few words I can think of where I'm overcome with memories and feelings at it's very mention - Christmas.
The final countdown has commenced, and this will be my last full week in Europe until 2013. As wonderful as it is here, I truly am so looking forward to being home for Christmas. I miss my family and my friends tremendously. In a way, I'm envious of my English friends, as home's just a hop, skip, and a jump away, but looking on the bright side, being so far away from those I love only strengthens my appreciation for them and for home. I'm starting to make plans to meet with friends back down at the Shore, and I'm getting really excited to see everyone again - the last time I'll be able to see them until July when I return home. Today a few of us are meeting for coffee to bid a temporary farewell to one of our friends who's leaving soon for the holiday. Just over a week to go, and I'll be there myself!
This was a sleepy weekend, not doing too much. We had our supplementary orientation Friday, which wasn't as bad as it could have been, thankfully, but it was a long day. Later that evening we all gathered at Augustinerbräu, home to Austria's largest Biergarten, for a few beers with some visiting friends and one of my English friend's family. Its a big, rowdy place, but it's one of my favorite places in the city to visit. You get to pick your own mug, wash it, and have it filled with your choice of seasonal beer, and most nights, particularly on weekends, Lederhosen are abundant. It's just a fun place to go with friends, and that's exactly what Friday night was - a great time with friends.
Saturday was very cold, but one of my friend's boyfriend was in town for the weekend, so a group of us met up and revisited the Strudel café. What I had ordered the first time was so amazing, that I just had to get it again. We crammed around a little table, but we had a nice time. We explored the markets afterwards, and I picked up a much needed pair of warmer gloves. That evening, we planned on going to an ice hockey game - the Salzburg Oilers vs. Weiz Bulls. We got there a bit early to "beat the crowds." When the beer cost more than the entrance fare, we should have known we were in for a surprise. The verdict is still out on whether there were more people on the ice than in the stands, but we did get to select any seat we wanted! There were two groups who were running a little late, so I had some fun, texting them that it was jam-packed, and that we were trying to hold their seats for as long as possible. When they arrived and saw virtually empty stands, they were not amused. But I sure was! The game was actually a lot of fun, though, and it turned out to be a great night. Sunday was just cold. I very nearly froze to death in Church, despite wearing 4 layers of clothing. I made some headway on some writing, and prepared my 12 introductory lessons for the week.... They're predicting snow nearly every day this week, and the temperature isn't supposed to rise above 32°. My Colombian flatmate has just left for Bogota for the holidays, so the music's stopped for now. The combination of excitement for Christmas and finding the motivation to make it through one more weekend is a tricky one, so I need to keep myself busy so that the time flies by. But first, it's off to coffee...
The final countdown has commenced, and this will be my last full week in Europe until 2013. As wonderful as it is here, I truly am so looking forward to being home for Christmas. I miss my family and my friends tremendously. In a way, I'm envious of my English friends, as home's just a hop, skip, and a jump away, but looking on the bright side, being so far away from those I love only strengthens my appreciation for them and for home. I'm starting to make plans to meet with friends back down at the Shore, and I'm getting really excited to see everyone again - the last time I'll be able to see them until July when I return home. Today a few of us are meeting for coffee to bid a temporary farewell to one of our friends who's leaving soon for the holiday. Just over a week to go, and I'll be there myself!
This was a sleepy weekend, not doing too much. We had our supplementary orientation Friday, which wasn't as bad as it could have been, thankfully, but it was a long day. Later that evening we all gathered at Augustinerbräu, home to Austria's largest Biergarten, for a few beers with some visiting friends and one of my English friend's family. Its a big, rowdy place, but it's one of my favorite places in the city to visit. You get to pick your own mug, wash it, and have it filled with your choice of seasonal beer, and most nights, particularly on weekends, Lederhosen are abundant. It's just a fun place to go with friends, and that's exactly what Friday night was - a great time with friends.
Saturday was very cold, but one of my friend's boyfriend was in town for the weekend, so a group of us met up and revisited the Strudel café. What I had ordered the first time was so amazing, that I just had to get it again. We crammed around a little table, but we had a nice time. We explored the markets afterwards, and I picked up a much needed pair of warmer gloves. That evening, we planned on going to an ice hockey game - the Salzburg Oilers vs. Weiz Bulls. We got there a bit early to "beat the crowds." When the beer cost more than the entrance fare, we should have known we were in for a surprise. The verdict is still out on whether there were more people on the ice than in the stands, but we did get to select any seat we wanted! There were two groups who were running a little late, so I had some fun, texting them that it was jam-packed, and that we were trying to hold their seats for as long as possible. When they arrived and saw virtually empty stands, they were not amused. But I sure was! The game was actually a lot of fun, though, and it turned out to be a great night. Sunday was just cold. I very nearly froze to death in Church, despite wearing 4 layers of clothing. I made some headway on some writing, and prepared my 12 introductory lessons for the week.... They're predicting snow nearly every day this week, and the temperature isn't supposed to rise above 32°. My Colombian flatmate has just left for Bogota for the holidays, so the music's stopped for now. The combination of excitement for Christmas and finding the motivation to make it through one more weekend is a tricky one, so I need to keep myself busy so that the time flies by. But first, it's off to coffee...
 |
| Eternally beautiful Salzburg |
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Coal is so Passive
Snow falls silently on an aged city, blanketing everything in a brilliant white. The low-hanging clouds obscure the distant mountains as Christmas lights shine warmly through the wintry night. Days grow darker and darker, but spirits continually grow higher in anticipation of the holidays. The city is in top form, catering not only to thousands of tourists who flock to its center, but also to traditions of markets, yuletide joy, and pious preparation. Last Saturday, many of us gathered in the Church of Nonnberg Abbey of Sound of Music fame, which, along with neighboring St. Peter's Archabbey, is the oldest monastic institution north of the Alps, for a choral concert of carols (though, I could't quite say they were all Advent themed), as performed by the students of a fellow teaching assistant's school. Short, sweet, and pretty darn good for a group of non-musician kids. At the end of the concert, a Benedictine nun in full habit said a few words. It was the first time a few of the other TAs had seen a nun, and I got a big kick out of that - 'twas like an ordinary day back at University! Afterwards, we traveled by bus just south of the city to Schloss Hellbrunn, the former summer residence of the Prince-Archbishops of Salzburg. There, a quaint Christkindlmarkt stood in the courtyard and surrounding pathways. Some Glühwein with friends, admiration for the beauty of the palace lit at night, and maybe even some frostbite. Beyond freezing temperatures and wind definitely took the life out of the party, and no less than an hour after arrival, we were on the bus returning to the city. We then tried to stop for a few drinks and maybe something to warm us up at one of our favorite places in the Altstadt, a giant beer hall named Stieglkeller on the mountainside below the fortress, but we encountered a dilemma that we've faced several times now - reservations. With the influx of tourism surrounding the Christmas markets, a reservation is most often required at nearly every restaurant in town, especially for a group as large as ours.
The next day, a few of us ventured out into the cold again for a football match between FC Red Bull Salzburg and FK Austria Wien, which is the Vienna-based team that is Salzburg's traditional rival. One of the teaching assistant's boyfriend is Austrian, and he got us terrific tickets second row from the field. It was ever so slightly snowing, but we braved the weather and had a lot of fun. The two teams were vying for first and second places in their league, but to the dismay of most of the fans, no one scored during the game. I'm not a huge sports buff, so when I do find myself at a sporting event, I get sidetracked very easily. I think I found watching the fan sections just as invigorating as the game itself. The last time I was at a soccer game was on a high school trip senior year to Buenos Aires - giant banners, confetti, drums and brass instruments, fireworks, and so many fans jumping in unison that the stadium shook - one of the most exciting events of my life. Austrian fans are a lot tamer, but still so much fun to observe. Only in Salzburg would they have a chant following the melody of Mozart's Symphony No. 40! It was great fun, and I'm so happy I made it to a game, as I hadn't the last time I was here. I'm hoping to catch another game in the spring, once the weather's warmed.
This was an easy week in the classroom - only a few introductions, and my Friday classes were cancelled so that I may attend a board of education-sponsored seminar for all teaching assistants within the province. I laughed at one of the related emails we received, asking us to bring our most successful lesson to share with the group. I imagine the other assistants have at least a dozen different, exciting lessons from which to choose. I have...hmm, let me count...one. Oh right, I've only done my introductory lesson! I will have to explain to the moderators tomorrow because I feel that they'd think I am awfully narcissistic if I present a lesson about myself as my favorite lesson without qualification!
Today is the Feast of Saint Nicholas, the religious forerunner to our beloved Santa Claus, whose name is derived from the Dutch spelling of St. Nick, Sinterklaas. Here, Santa Claus isn't entirely the jolly, fat man most of us imagine, but rather takes an episcopal approach, dressing in the alb, cope, and miter of a bishop, with crozier in hand. And here's where a cultural difference comes into play. What do naughty children get back home for Christmas instead of presents? Coal, right? Okay, that's all good and well. Now, what do Austrian children get when they've been naughty? Coal? No. They get a troop of demonic creatures that come down from the mountain with St. Nicholas and throw bad children in their basket and take them up to the mountains from where they're never heard of again. One look at these things, called Krampusse (sing: Krampus), and you wonder how Austrian children are not he most well behaved Kinder in the world. Terrifying doesn't begin to explain how scary these monsters are. In many Alpine towns, there is a tradition event called a Krampuslauf (Krampus run) the day before the Feast, in which Krampusse parade through the center of town with their giant cow bells, scaring all who watch. Also by tradition, Krampusse carry bundles of branches or small whips, with which they hit the legs of girls, particularly blondes (why this is, I have no clue). I've heard about the Krampus for years, and it absolutely made my day to actually witness a Krampuslauf. A bunch of us gathered in the Aldstadt, and I think we were all a bit jittery, not sure what quite to expect. A few screams, and some running children, then we heard the bells...the Krampuslauf had begun. These monsters paraded down a small pedestrian street, hitting nearly all the girls in sight. The girls were screaming, and one of the Krampusse even tried to drag one of the girls with him - I was doubled over, laughing so hard that my cheeks hurt so much by night's end! After they had passed, a few of us went down an alley and cut across a few squares to get ahead of them, to try and get a few more pictures. Bad idea. Once they got to the final square, the "lauf" was over, and they were set free on the city. All Hell broke loose. During their parade, they were meandering down the street. Now, they were running on a wild rampage, hitting everyone in sight. People were running and screaming, and I got hit myself - jeez, those branches sting! The look on unassuming tourists' faces was priceless. Little did they know that visiting a beautiful Christmas market also meant getting beaten by the devil incarnate. One of the teaching assistants has a friend from the States visiting Europe for the first time, and the Krampuslauf was one of her first experiences here - welcome to Austria! After running and hiding to save our skins, we realized we had been separated from the rest of the group - they followed the Krampusse, and the girl who had nearly been dragged into the street was actually thrown over the shoulder of the very same Krampus who had attacked her earlier and carried down the street. Horrific. The Krampusse are now monitored by police, so they're fairly regulated and safe, but their whipping still hurts! 2 of my teachers were explaining how they were in a small tavern about 5 years ago on the night of the Krampuslauf - they were enjoying dinner when all of a sudden people started screaming and jumped on tables as about a dozen Krampusse stormed the restaurant and started beating people. It became so violent that 20 police officer were called in to stop the carnage - my teacher was hospitalized. Yesterday, another teacher showed me the bruises on the back of her legs - her students disguised as Krampusse had attacked her the day before. After the nightmare on Earth, which seemed more like a scene out of some medieval Italian painting about the last judgement than a "fun mountain tradition," as it had been described to me, we went to a beer hall above the town. Mid-meal, a man who had just left the room to use the facilities ran back in and said to his wife "they're coming." Cow bells. The Krampusse paraded around the tables, ruffling the feathers of the girls. On the outside, I was laughing and smiling, but on the inside, I very nearly wet myself. THIS is cultural immersion.
 |
| Christkindlmarkt at Schloss Hellbrunn |
The next day, a few of us ventured out into the cold again for a football match between FC Red Bull Salzburg and FK Austria Wien, which is the Vienna-based team that is Salzburg's traditional rival. One of the teaching assistant's boyfriend is Austrian, and he got us terrific tickets second row from the field. It was ever so slightly snowing, but we braved the weather and had a lot of fun. The two teams were vying for first and second places in their league, but to the dismay of most of the fans, no one scored during the game. I'm not a huge sports buff, so when I do find myself at a sporting event, I get sidetracked very easily. I think I found watching the fan sections just as invigorating as the game itself. The last time I was at a soccer game was on a high school trip senior year to Buenos Aires - giant banners, confetti, drums and brass instruments, fireworks, and so many fans jumping in unison that the stadium shook - one of the most exciting events of my life. Austrian fans are a lot tamer, but still so much fun to observe. Only in Salzburg would they have a chant following the melody of Mozart's Symphony No. 40! It was great fun, and I'm so happy I made it to a game, as I hadn't the last time I was here. I'm hoping to catch another game in the spring, once the weather's warmed.
This was an easy week in the classroom - only a few introductions, and my Friday classes were cancelled so that I may attend a board of education-sponsored seminar for all teaching assistants within the province. I laughed at one of the related emails we received, asking us to bring our most successful lesson to share with the group. I imagine the other assistants have at least a dozen different, exciting lessons from which to choose. I have...hmm, let me count...one. Oh right, I've only done my introductory lesson! I will have to explain to the moderators tomorrow because I feel that they'd think I am awfully narcissistic if I present a lesson about myself as my favorite lesson without qualification!
Today is the Feast of Saint Nicholas, the religious forerunner to our beloved Santa Claus, whose name is derived from the Dutch spelling of St. Nick, Sinterklaas. Here, Santa Claus isn't entirely the jolly, fat man most of us imagine, but rather takes an episcopal approach, dressing in the alb, cope, and miter of a bishop, with crozier in hand. And here's where a cultural difference comes into play. What do naughty children get back home for Christmas instead of presents? Coal, right? Okay, that's all good and well. Now, what do Austrian children get when they've been naughty? Coal? No. They get a troop of demonic creatures that come down from the mountain with St. Nicholas and throw bad children in their basket and take them up to the mountains from where they're never heard of again. One look at these things, called Krampusse (sing: Krampus), and you wonder how Austrian children are not he most well behaved Kinder in the world. Terrifying doesn't begin to explain how scary these monsters are. In many Alpine towns, there is a tradition event called a Krampuslauf (Krampus run) the day before the Feast, in which Krampusse parade through the center of town with their giant cow bells, scaring all who watch. Also by tradition, Krampusse carry bundles of branches or small whips, with which they hit the legs of girls, particularly blondes (why this is, I have no clue). I've heard about the Krampus for years, and it absolutely made my day to actually witness a Krampuslauf. A bunch of us gathered in the Aldstadt, and I think we were all a bit jittery, not sure what quite to expect. A few screams, and some running children, then we heard the bells...the Krampuslauf had begun. These monsters paraded down a small pedestrian street, hitting nearly all the girls in sight. The girls were screaming, and one of the Krampusse even tried to drag one of the girls with him - I was doubled over, laughing so hard that my cheeks hurt so much by night's end! After they had passed, a few of us went down an alley and cut across a few squares to get ahead of them, to try and get a few more pictures. Bad idea. Once they got to the final square, the "lauf" was over, and they were set free on the city. All Hell broke loose. During their parade, they were meandering down the street. Now, they were running on a wild rampage, hitting everyone in sight. People were running and screaming, and I got hit myself - jeez, those branches sting! The look on unassuming tourists' faces was priceless. Little did they know that visiting a beautiful Christmas market also meant getting beaten by the devil incarnate. One of the teaching assistants has a friend from the States visiting Europe for the first time, and the Krampuslauf was one of her first experiences here - welcome to Austria! After running and hiding to save our skins, we realized we had been separated from the rest of the group - they followed the Krampusse, and the girl who had nearly been dragged into the street was actually thrown over the shoulder of the very same Krampus who had attacked her earlier and carried down the street. Horrific. The Krampusse are now monitored by police, so they're fairly regulated and safe, but their whipping still hurts! 2 of my teachers were explaining how they were in a small tavern about 5 years ago on the night of the Krampuslauf - they were enjoying dinner when all of a sudden people started screaming and jumped on tables as about a dozen Krampusse stormed the restaurant and started beating people. It became so violent that 20 police officer were called in to stop the carnage - my teacher was hospitalized. Yesterday, another teacher showed me the bruises on the back of her legs - her students disguised as Krampusse had attacked her the day before. After the nightmare on Earth, which seemed more like a scene out of some medieval Italian painting about the last judgement than a "fun mountain tradition," as it had been described to me, we went to a beer hall above the town. Mid-meal, a man who had just left the room to use the facilities ran back in and said to his wife "they're coming." Cow bells. The Krampusse paraded around the tables, ruffling the feathers of the girls. On the outside, I was laughing and smiling, but on the inside, I very nearly wet myself. THIS is cultural immersion.
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| "Go ahead, make my day." |
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Two Can Play This Game
It is 6:54am as I start to write this. Why so early?, you ask. Well, I was sleeping just fine, having nice dreams of sitting on a beach on some faraway island when I was suddenly awoken by that which haunts me day and night. What terror is this? It has no earthly name, having been forged by the Devil himself in the depths of Hell. Some of you may remember mentioning my Colombian guitarist flatmate who's preparing for a recital - remember that piece he was working on a month ago? Yeah, he still can't play it, and today he's decided to let me wake to the wonders of a new day with his serenade. I've yet to hear him play the first 10 seconds of the piece without making a mistake, which means, on average, he plays that part about 20 times before moving on to the next section. I still don't know how the piece ends, because I don't think he's ever reached that part. Granted, the poor guy was paralyzed for a few days and had to relearn how to play his instrument, but still, you think he'd have it down pat by now. 6.54am. The day I met him, I was trying to be as cordial and friendly as possible, and in the spirit of accommodation, I allowed him to practice in the room instead of banishing him to the basement rehearsal rooms. I had visions of Pepe Romero gracefully playing Rodrigo and flamenco classics. But no, I have found the only guitarist in the world who knows only a single song. Worst of all, it's a catchy song, so I find myself whistling it whilst walking down the street, or humming it in the shower. 6.54am. Tomorrow's his sleep-in day, but I'm always up early for Mass on Sundays. Tomorrow, I think my speakers are going to be in the mood for Wagner's Götterdammerung, at 6:54am, of course.
In other news, the Strudel place was yesterday was one of the best finds here in Salzburg. After walking around a busy courtyard, we found the entrance tucked away in a corner. We descended a few steps and walked into a quaint café that seemed it was right out of 1950's Americana. Soft green painted woodwork, vaulted ceilings, a chrome plated bar, sundae-looking glasses sitting on mirror-backed shelves behind the counter, stools and small tables, old fashioned coffee makers, and a bright display of the Strudels of the day: apple, apple and plum, blueberry and cream cheese, poppy and hazelnut, and 1 or 2 more that I can't remember. There were 6 of us at the table, and I think we each ordered something different. I opted for the apple and plum Strudel with vanilla sauce, which is like a custard, and a mint hot chocolate. My Strudel was served in a bowl, nearly covered in the sauce, and topped with powdered sugar, the hot chocolate with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. Exquisite. Hands down, the best Strudel I've had. It was the perfect combination of tart and sweet, the vanilla sauce was creamy, the pastry crisp, and the hot chocolate was beyond words. Being a little out of the way, I felt this place was not on the usual tourist's list of places to visit, so it had a bit more of an authentic, local feel. I will certainly be returning as often as I can to try all of their Strudels, which change daily. What a great, little café!
This afternoon, after some morning paperwork and writing a few postcards, a few of us will be attending a choral concert in the Benedictine Nonnberg Abbey, which many will know as "Maria's" abbey from The Sound of Music (yup, it actually exists!), before heading to a small Christmas market as all the Church bells in the city sound for the start of Advent. The Chapel interior isn't the same used in the film, unfortunately, but the outside is right out of the film. I was thinking about that movie yesterday, and how Austrians have little or no interest in watching it, believing it is wholly the fabrication of American kitschy values thrown onto Dirndl-wearing children who simply run around their city singing all day. While there's probably some truth to that, I actually think The Sound of Music does a pretty bang up job of illustrating some of the highest points of Austrian culture and being. Looking at some of the major themes of the film, one can find a lot of messages that are very important to Austrians, even today. Austria existing as an independent, individual nation and not in the shadow of "big brother" Germany, a deep respect and love for the wilderness and the spirit of adventure, an integral relationship with music, an unwavering sense of tradition, a nostalgic grasp of the past, and an emphasis on the family. These are not stereotypes, and they are not kitschy. These are the values that Austrians, at least those living in Salzburg, hold. While children aren't climbing trees in old curtains-turned Lederhosen, the fiber of their character, the spirit in which they are portrayed, I think, is quite apt, and a testament to some of what's great about Austria.
A lot of my students ask why I, of all places, selected to come to Salzburg. My first response is, "What do you think of your city," to which they usually respond simply with "It's okay. It's home, so I'm used to it." Used to it. They laugh at all the tourists on the Sound of Music tour (in their defense, hearing a busload of Japanese tourists try and sing "Edelweiss" in broken English is hysterical), and while tourism can at times be a bit oppressive here, I think the reason people do visit is to experience those Austrian values from the film, mainly because when you come here, you feel those values. They are not dead, not only featured in the film. Yes, you can visit the filming locations, which is great fun, but you can also see Dirndl and Lederhosen on a daily basis, and it's not a costume, it's what people wear. You can hear Austrians getting angry when you mistake them for Germans. There is always music being performed in each corner of the city. The neighboring Alps are dotted with hikers, young and old, just going for their daily walk amongst nature. More and more, you can hear people talking about the "golden years" of Austria under the crown, and families do everything together here, from a trip to Spain to a trip to McDonald's. We might not have Captain and Maria von Trapp, but when you come here, it's like walking back in time, like walking into the film. In that respect, it's unlike any other city I've visited, and I think that's why its allure has captured so many. Each day, whether its when I look up at the fortress and the surrounding mountains, as I watch the rush of the river, as I walk the cobblestone Altstadt amidst 1000 year old buildings, as I hear the bells of an ancient Church, as I'm sharing a beer with friends in a crowded hall, my breath is taken away for a moment as I realize, "wow, I live in this fairy tale place." Used to it. I hope I don't stay here long enough to ever say that. What a truly wonderful place to call home.
In other news, the Strudel place was yesterday was one of the best finds here in Salzburg. After walking around a busy courtyard, we found the entrance tucked away in a corner. We descended a few steps and walked into a quaint café that seemed it was right out of 1950's Americana. Soft green painted woodwork, vaulted ceilings, a chrome plated bar, sundae-looking glasses sitting on mirror-backed shelves behind the counter, stools and small tables, old fashioned coffee makers, and a bright display of the Strudels of the day: apple, apple and plum, blueberry and cream cheese, poppy and hazelnut, and 1 or 2 more that I can't remember. There were 6 of us at the table, and I think we each ordered something different. I opted for the apple and plum Strudel with vanilla sauce, which is like a custard, and a mint hot chocolate. My Strudel was served in a bowl, nearly covered in the sauce, and topped with powdered sugar, the hot chocolate with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. Exquisite. Hands down, the best Strudel I've had. It was the perfect combination of tart and sweet, the vanilla sauce was creamy, the pastry crisp, and the hot chocolate was beyond words. Being a little out of the way, I felt this place was not on the usual tourist's list of places to visit, so it had a bit more of an authentic, local feel. I will certainly be returning as often as I can to try all of their Strudels, which change daily. What a great, little café!
This afternoon, after some morning paperwork and writing a few postcards, a few of us will be attending a choral concert in the Benedictine Nonnberg Abbey, which many will know as "Maria's" abbey from The Sound of Music (yup, it actually exists!), before heading to a small Christmas market as all the Church bells in the city sound for the start of Advent. The Chapel interior isn't the same used in the film, unfortunately, but the outside is right out of the film. I was thinking about that movie yesterday, and how Austrians have little or no interest in watching it, believing it is wholly the fabrication of American kitschy values thrown onto Dirndl-wearing children who simply run around their city singing all day. While there's probably some truth to that, I actually think The Sound of Music does a pretty bang up job of illustrating some of the highest points of Austrian culture and being. Looking at some of the major themes of the film, one can find a lot of messages that are very important to Austrians, even today. Austria existing as an independent, individual nation and not in the shadow of "big brother" Germany, a deep respect and love for the wilderness and the spirit of adventure, an integral relationship with music, an unwavering sense of tradition, a nostalgic grasp of the past, and an emphasis on the family. These are not stereotypes, and they are not kitschy. These are the values that Austrians, at least those living in Salzburg, hold. While children aren't climbing trees in old curtains-turned Lederhosen, the fiber of their character, the spirit in which they are portrayed, I think, is quite apt, and a testament to some of what's great about Austria.
.JPG) |
| "We've come to see Maria, Sister Marghereta." |
A lot of my students ask why I, of all places, selected to come to Salzburg. My first response is, "What do you think of your city," to which they usually respond simply with "It's okay. It's home, so I'm used to it." Used to it. They laugh at all the tourists on the Sound of Music tour (in their defense, hearing a busload of Japanese tourists try and sing "Edelweiss" in broken English is hysterical), and while tourism can at times be a bit oppressive here, I think the reason people do visit is to experience those Austrian values from the film, mainly because when you come here, you feel those values. They are not dead, not only featured in the film. Yes, you can visit the filming locations, which is great fun, but you can also see Dirndl and Lederhosen on a daily basis, and it's not a costume, it's what people wear. You can hear Austrians getting angry when you mistake them for Germans. There is always music being performed in each corner of the city. The neighboring Alps are dotted with hikers, young and old, just going for their daily walk amongst nature. More and more, you can hear people talking about the "golden years" of Austria under the crown, and families do everything together here, from a trip to Spain to a trip to McDonald's. We might not have Captain and Maria von Trapp, but when you come here, it's like walking back in time, like walking into the film. In that respect, it's unlike any other city I've visited, and I think that's why its allure has captured so many. Each day, whether its when I look up at the fortress and the surrounding mountains, as I watch the rush of the river, as I walk the cobblestone Altstadt amidst 1000 year old buildings, as I hear the bells of an ancient Church, as I'm sharing a beer with friends in a crowded hall, my breath is taken away for a moment as I realize, "wow, I live in this fairy tale place." Used to it. I hope I don't stay here long enough to ever say that. What a truly wonderful place to call home.
.JPG) |
| View into Bavaria from the front gate of Stift Nonnberg. |
Friday, November 30, 2012
Just a Little Bit Closer
With temperatures predicted to remain in the low 30s and snow in the forecast for the week ahead, I feel comfortable believing that winter is now upon us. Though I'm not usually a fan of the cold months, I am very much looking forward to seeing the city covered in a blanket of snow, especially because I have imagined visiting a white market all my life in my dreams of the quintessential Christmas. Once Advent begins this weekend, I can justify listening to the Philadelphia Brass' Christmas carols recording, or indulge in Pavarotti's album of Catholic hymns. Three weeks of teaching remain, and if the past two weeks are any indication of how time will pass, I'll be on my flight from Munich to Boston via Heathrow before I know it.
My seminar at the university falls within the curriculum for a Master's program, so most of the students are a few years older than I, and the work load is quite demanding. It focuses on using a database of video interviews with Holocaust survivors, perpetrators, and liberators, which was actually established by Stephen Spielberg after he completed filming Schindler's List in 1993. The semester began by understanding the art, if you will, of interviewing - techniques, psychological underpinnings, historical reliance, format, presentation, etc. For the past six weeks or so, we each have been working on our semester project, picking a particular theme or angle, and creating an 8 minute video by cutting one person's multi-hour testimony into a cohesive narrative about that perspective. Thinking in line with my research, I wanted to investigate how religious and national identity play a role in emotional attachment to a traumatic event, which, in this case was the loss of one's entire family to the Holocaust. I selected a woman whose parents sent her to London from Berlin in 1939 at the age of 11, before the "Final Solution" was agreed upon. She was raised Jewish, but adopted the Anglican faith of her foster family. During her formative years at a Church of England boarding school, she decided to convert to Roman Catholicism. She had said that her German accent was the subject of many jokes at school, which she found tremendously harmful, because back home she was ostracized for not being German, and here, she was mocked for being German. Confusion. Was she German? Was she English? Was she Jewish? Anglican? Catholic? At the war's end, and to to her death, she did not know. She felt nothing for religion, believing that religion only divides people. Her case is particularly interesting in that, although she was called a "Holocaust survivor," she experienced the genocide from afar, from Great Britain. She saw no one murdered, she did not live in the camps, she did not ride on an overfilled cattle car, she did not smell death, she saw not one S.S. soldier. In comparison to other witnesses' testimonies, hers is entirely devoid of affect and is wholly objective. It was such a stark difference to others that I have viewed, that it made me realize that how one identifies oneself is directly linked to affective response, which, in this case, can also be attributed to physical distance, removal, from the source of trauma. Last Thursday, we were supposed to have submitted our videos online, but, what I didn't realize was that we had an oral presentation. Naturally, I was the first selected to go. So, on the spot, in German, I explained my thought process, my reasons for selecting the clips I had, and analyzing my thesis in front of the class, which actually went a lot smoother than I had thought. Afterwards, I entertained a Q&A session with my classmates on Holocaust education in the U.S. (which coincidentally mirrors the relation between Holocaust and individual that my project illustrated / i.e., distance) and Europe, as well as trends in national identity, particularly in German-speaking countries, in the post-war period. I answered questions for nearly 45 minutes, and I know it was really enlightening for both my classmates and myself - totally enjoyed it. The best part about it, I've completed my work for the entire semester, and all I have to do now is watch and listen to my classmates' reports. Another cool thing about the language - my classmates address me as "Herr Kollege," which just sounds nice!
Tuesday and Thursday evenings, I went out to dinner with friends to SoCal and Thai restaurants, respectively. It was a little taste of home, and a big taste of spice, which was heavenly! Austrians are afraid of spice, I feel, and boy, was it nice to have that tingling sensation again.
After teaching Wednesday morning, I was off to Vienna for a few hours. The Fulbright Commission had arranged a reception at the American ambassador's residence in a beautiful neighborhood of the city. Upon arrival, the sun was out (which was not the case back in Salzburg), it was in the mid-50s, and it was just so great to be back. It was straight to dinner with several other researchers, and then right to the reception for a punctual 6pm arrival. *Necessary Tangent - Austrians are positively horrible at indoor climate control. Imagine this: its snowing outside, you're wearing a heavy woolen coat, with a sweater underneath. The moment you step inside, your glasses fog up and you begin sweating uncontrollably because its 85 degrees inside! This was certainly the case at this reception. 50 people inside a small-ish room, wearing wool suits, etc., and it was at least 80 degrees in there - no exaggeration. Classrooms, the buses, restaurants...they're all the same. Open a window! End rant.* As nice as the evening was, I had to rush out a bit early to catch the train back to Salzburg because I had early classes the next morning. Too, too short of a time in Vienna. I wish I could have stayed overnight and maybe met up with a few friends for coffee or a concert, but that'll have to wait until the next time.
I have a four day weekend this time around (yay!), and instead of travelling, I've decided to enjoy a relaxing weekend here. Today was some work in the morning, and then sampling a hole-in-the-wall café in the Altstadt which makes various fresh Strudels each day and which comes highly recommended. Tomorrow, it's some more paperwork, some Christmas shopping, and a quaint Christmas market in a palace courtyard just south of the city, and on Sunday a small group of us will be going to the Salzburg vs. Vienna football match, which is supposedly the game of the year, deciding first and second place positions in their league. I can get used to weekends like this.
My seminar at the university falls within the curriculum for a Master's program, so most of the students are a few years older than I, and the work load is quite demanding. It focuses on using a database of video interviews with Holocaust survivors, perpetrators, and liberators, which was actually established by Stephen Spielberg after he completed filming Schindler's List in 1993. The semester began by understanding the art, if you will, of interviewing - techniques, psychological underpinnings, historical reliance, format, presentation, etc. For the past six weeks or so, we each have been working on our semester project, picking a particular theme or angle, and creating an 8 minute video by cutting one person's multi-hour testimony into a cohesive narrative about that perspective. Thinking in line with my research, I wanted to investigate how religious and national identity play a role in emotional attachment to a traumatic event, which, in this case was the loss of one's entire family to the Holocaust. I selected a woman whose parents sent her to London from Berlin in 1939 at the age of 11, before the "Final Solution" was agreed upon. She was raised Jewish, but adopted the Anglican faith of her foster family. During her formative years at a Church of England boarding school, she decided to convert to Roman Catholicism. She had said that her German accent was the subject of many jokes at school, which she found tremendously harmful, because back home she was ostracized for not being German, and here, she was mocked for being German. Confusion. Was she German? Was she English? Was she Jewish? Anglican? Catholic? At the war's end, and to to her death, she did not know. She felt nothing for religion, believing that religion only divides people. Her case is particularly interesting in that, although she was called a "Holocaust survivor," she experienced the genocide from afar, from Great Britain. She saw no one murdered, she did not live in the camps, she did not ride on an overfilled cattle car, she did not smell death, she saw not one S.S. soldier. In comparison to other witnesses' testimonies, hers is entirely devoid of affect and is wholly objective. It was such a stark difference to others that I have viewed, that it made me realize that how one identifies oneself is directly linked to affective response, which, in this case, can also be attributed to physical distance, removal, from the source of trauma. Last Thursday, we were supposed to have submitted our videos online, but, what I didn't realize was that we had an oral presentation. Naturally, I was the first selected to go. So, on the spot, in German, I explained my thought process, my reasons for selecting the clips I had, and analyzing my thesis in front of the class, which actually went a lot smoother than I had thought. Afterwards, I entertained a Q&A session with my classmates on Holocaust education in the U.S. (which coincidentally mirrors the relation between Holocaust and individual that my project illustrated / i.e., distance) and Europe, as well as trends in national identity, particularly in German-speaking countries, in the post-war period. I answered questions for nearly 45 minutes, and I know it was really enlightening for both my classmates and myself - totally enjoyed it. The best part about it, I've completed my work for the entire semester, and all I have to do now is watch and listen to my classmates' reports. Another cool thing about the language - my classmates address me as "Herr Kollege," which just sounds nice!
Tuesday and Thursday evenings, I went out to dinner with friends to SoCal and Thai restaurants, respectively. It was a little taste of home, and a big taste of spice, which was heavenly! Austrians are afraid of spice, I feel, and boy, was it nice to have that tingling sensation again.
After teaching Wednesday morning, I was off to Vienna for a few hours. The Fulbright Commission had arranged a reception at the American ambassador's residence in a beautiful neighborhood of the city. Upon arrival, the sun was out (which was not the case back in Salzburg), it was in the mid-50s, and it was just so great to be back. It was straight to dinner with several other researchers, and then right to the reception for a punctual 6pm arrival. *Necessary Tangent - Austrians are positively horrible at indoor climate control. Imagine this: its snowing outside, you're wearing a heavy woolen coat, with a sweater underneath. The moment you step inside, your glasses fog up and you begin sweating uncontrollably because its 85 degrees inside! This was certainly the case at this reception. 50 people inside a small-ish room, wearing wool suits, etc., and it was at least 80 degrees in there - no exaggeration. Classrooms, the buses, restaurants...they're all the same. Open a window! End rant.* As nice as the evening was, I had to rush out a bit early to catch the train back to Salzburg because I had early classes the next morning. Too, too short of a time in Vienna. I wish I could have stayed overnight and maybe met up with a few friends for coffee or a concert, but that'll have to wait until the next time.
I have a four day weekend this time around (yay!), and instead of travelling, I've decided to enjoy a relaxing weekend here. Today was some work in the morning, and then sampling a hole-in-the-wall café in the Altstadt which makes various fresh Strudels each day and which comes highly recommended. Tomorrow, it's some more paperwork, some Christmas shopping, and a quaint Christmas market in a palace courtyard just south of the city, and on Sunday a small group of us will be going to the Salzburg vs. Vienna football match, which is supposedly the game of the year, deciding first and second place positions in their league. I can get used to weekends like this.
Monday, November 26, 2012
From Thy Bounty
Darkness has fallen. Bustling people huddle in front of small stands around the large squares while a Lederhosen-clad brass band parades around the wide paths playing traditional marches. The crackling of roasting chestnuts and the smell of freshly made sausages and sweets fill the air. A slight rain falls gracefully to the ground. Breath heated by Glühwein and punch dissipates in the crisp night air as hundreds of warmly dressed people chat with friends and family, soaking up the spectacle before them. With the thunderous roar of muskets and a cannon, the evergreen towering over the festivities below is illuminated, officially opening the Christkindlmarkt here in Salzburg. The city's magnificent Baroque buildings were covered in tasteful white Christmas lights, live music played throughout the night, and people were looking forward - a night in which worries were forgotten for a while, allowing one to absorb some of the anticipation and joy of the Christmas Season. Children circled on the ice rink, everyone admired the work of local craftsmen up for sale, drinks flowed, and spirits were high. Had it only been snowing, it would have been like all the Christmases you think you'd see only in the movies - "magical" only begins to describe it, and its up and running through the Feast of the Epiphany. If you're a fan of the Christmas Season (I sure am), Salzburg has transformed into a Christmas wonderland, and it only reinforces my belief that this is one of the most special cities in all the world.
The Christmas markets opened on Thursday, 22 November, which, back home, was Thanksgiving, a holiday 2nd only to the markets' namesake. For many of us here, it was our first time away from home for the big holiday, and, obviously, it was just another day to Austrians, so most of us worked that day. But, that didn't waiver our determination to hold a traditional Thanksgiving feast abroad. We scheduled our celebration for the following Sunday and each person was asked to contribute something to share the task of preparation and service. After morning Mass with a friend, I arrived at the hostess' apartment. As soon as the door opened, that oh so familiar smell of roasting turkey hit me. A few of the girls had been up early to start the cooking, and people slowly drifted in after noon. All in all, we celebrated with nearly 20 people, American, Austrian, and British, including some visiting boyfriends (yay, more guys!), with turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, string beans, roasted parsnips, Bourbon -glazed carrots, cranberry sauce, gravy, stuffed eggplant, stuffing, olive salad, pumpkin pie, apple pie, apple crisp, chocolate chip cookies, sticky toffee cake, and wine. Not bad, eh? We spent the entire afternoon in friendly conversation, with lots of laughs in between, just enjoying each other's company. We ended the night playing a few fun games, and even though we were thousands of miles and hours away from the U.S., I don't think it could have been bettered.
Sitting in a circle, looking at each of the people around me, seeing everyone laugh and smile, talk and listen, act and react, I became overcome with an intense feeling of complete, utter happiness. I've written before that my biggest fear in returning to Austria was that I would have a hard time making friends and would spend a lot of time by myself, and, in the course of only 2 months, through an orientation, through busy work schedules, through homesickness, through adjusting to a new home, through living admist a foreign language, through trials and living "in the real world," I've found myself among a group of beautiful girls, among wonderful friends, among a close family. Perhaps it was because of all of those challenges that we bonded to each other, to persevere and adapt together, but I like to think that, by the Grace of God, these terrific people were brought together in this small city at the foothills of the mighty Alps at the same time and for the same reason, and I've been lucky enough to be a part of it. That's what Thanksgiving is all about, right? Looking back on your life, and seeing the moments when you've been blessed, when a burden has been lifted, when life aligns better than you could have ever hoped. This year, more than ever, I understand the immense power of friendship, which has bound us into a single unit. I think we've reached the point where we're totally comfortable with each other, and the freedom we can express amongst each other is so incredible to share. Thanks to them, I'm completely content with being here. Thanks to them, I'm home. Observing my circle of friends yesterday, seeing that radiant happiness on each of their faces, feeling the comfort, realizing how each of them has touched my life in such a short time, leaves an indelible mark on my heart, one that I will carry with me for as long as I live - when I think back in my old age of this time in Austria, it will by my feelings and fond memories of my great friends here that will come to mind.
Another day abroad, another reason to appreciate just how great life, and the people who make life wonderful, is. And so it goes, and so it goes...
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| "Die Gegend von Salzburg halte ich für die schönsten der Erde." - Alexander von Humboldt |
Sunday, November 18, 2012
"Wien bleibt Wien"
Vienna is a city of favorites for me. There, in the most beautiful of European capital cities, lies my favorite opera house, my favorite orchestra, my favorite architecture, my favorite museums, my favorite palace, my favorite park, and my favorite café. After centuries of common existence, it was redesigned in the late 19th Century to be the crowning jewel of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, a showcase city which was to display all the beauty and power of its rulers, the family Habsburg. A magnificent boulevard called the Ringstraße encircles the Altstadt. On either side of this tree-lined avenue are extravagant palaces, theaters, museums, Churches, restaurants, cafés, music venues, universities, and government buildings. The buildings were ingeniously designed to represent that which they house. For example, Parliament is in the neo-Classical style, which recalls the foundation of Greek democracy, the Rathaus portrays the critical high point of medieval city-citizen relationship with its neo-Gothic grandeur, just as the Burgtheater, with its busts of Shakespeare, Goethe, Voltaire, and the likes, conveys the drama and tension of its staged productions by its exuberant neo-Baroque façade. Unlike many cities, Vienna is neither centered around monuments to military conquests, nor squares, nor castles, nor parks, nor rivers, nor mountains. Vienna was built for the people. It is a Kulturstadt of the highest caliber, with some of the world's finest cultural institutions having their address along the Ring. Music, art, literature, architecture, and the sensuous enjoyment of life are the air that fill the lungs of the Viennese. It is a city I adore, and one that I feel I understand at the deepest core of my soul. In one word, Vienna is bliss.
Directly after teaching Friday, I and another student jumped on the 3 hour train to the capital. After dropping off my things at a friend's place, we raced to the Staatsoper to grab tickets to that evening's performance of Puccini's Tosca. One of the best examples of verismo opera, Tosca tells the story of the diva Tosca and her lover Cavaradossi the painter, who find themselves under the thumb of the sinister police commissioner, Scarpia, in Napoleonic-era Rome. After aiding an enemy of the state, Cavaradossi is imprisoned and sentenced to death by Scarpia and his henchmen, finally allowing Scarpia to force his hand on the now-vulnerable opera singer, after whom he's long lusted. Scarpia offers to spare Tosca's lover if she allows him to seduce her. She agrees, and Scarpia tells his deputy to arrange a mock execution with blank rounds. As he advances on her, Tosca pulls out a concealed dagger, stabs him, and kills him. She rushes off to Castel Sant'Angelo to witness Cavaradossi's execution. There, she whispers to him that he must pretend to die when the shots ring out, and that after the guards leave, they can flea Rome and live together in peace. The muskets fire, and the guards return to their post, and Cavaradossi lies still on the ground. With hushed voice, Tosca alerts her lover that the time has come for them to depart, but there he lies, still, dead. Scarpia had outsmarted her, and now, she hears the guards return, calling for her arrest. Ever defiant, she swears that she will have her revenge and that she will meet Scarpia in Hell, and the moment before the curtain falls, she jumps off the fortress to her death below. It's an incredible story, a powerful score, and was masterfully performed.
After the opera, we headed back to our friend's place for a few beers, and some much needed sleep. After a big homemade breakfast, the first proper breakfast I've had since leaving home, I headed to my favorite spot in the whole city. I met a new friend at Café Landtmann, the old haunt of Freud, Mahler, Schiele, and Bernhard. With its dark mahogany walls, gilded chandeliers, tall mirrors, white linen tables clothes and deep brown, plush seats, its high ceilings, and its black tie-wearing waiters, walking into Landtmann is like walking back through time. Its massive display of delectable cakes is one of the sweetest sights I've ever seen (ha...ha). Its a place where you can sit forever, enjoying your coffee, reading a paper, listening to music, and my favorite, watching people, and no one will come and bother you or bring your bill without it being requested. We shared a small table in the main room, sipping our melanges, and having a great conversation. I wish we could have spent the whole day there, and, as simple as it was, it was the best part of the whole weekend.
Next, it was off to the Theater-an-der-Wien, an old opera house along the Naschmarkt where Beethoven used to live, and on whose stage many of his works premiered. The U.S. teaching assistants were invited on a tour, and it really was quite the tour. In the house, on the stage, behind the stage, under the stage, and in the network of rooms and hallways throughout. It was fascinating to see the development of the modern opera house, which, in this particular case, was an astonishing fusion of traditional aesthetics and advanced technologies. After our tour, we proceeded to the museum district where our orientation was mid-September when I first arrived. There, we were treated to Glühwein, which is a traditional mulled wine served around Christmastime. From there, a few of us headed through the city to Figlmüller, a famous Viennese restaurant near the Cathedral. On a friend's recommendation, we bypassed the ridiculously long tourist entrance and found the more local entrance around the corner, which got us a table in no time. This place is famous for its schnitzel, which, here, was so large that is was about an inch over the plate on all sides - bar none, the biggest piece of schnitzel I've ever seen, and, oh dear Lord was it good! Schnitzel, potato salad with pumpkin oil (which was also outrageously delicious), and a glass of Grüner Veltliner - textbook Vienna, but it's a stereotype for a reason - it was one of the best meals I've had since arriving. Then, the sleep train ride back to Salzburg.
Today was quiet. Mass, a walk along the river, some grocery shopping, and some work. Despite the shoebox of a room I inhabit, I managed to rearrange a few things, and had a friend over for an early dinner. Mozzarella di Bufala with fresh basil, Frischkäse stuffed cherry peppers, olives, bread, and pasta - almost felt like every other Sunday back home.
This coming week is the first in my life where Christmas starts before Thanksgiving. Being a regular work day here, we won't be able to celebrate Thanksgiving together until Sunday, and the Christmas markets open on turkey day. It's my two favorite holidays in one week!
Directly after teaching Friday, I and another student jumped on the 3 hour train to the capital. After dropping off my things at a friend's place, we raced to the Staatsoper to grab tickets to that evening's performance of Puccini's Tosca. One of the best examples of verismo opera, Tosca tells the story of the diva Tosca and her lover Cavaradossi the painter, who find themselves under the thumb of the sinister police commissioner, Scarpia, in Napoleonic-era Rome. After aiding an enemy of the state, Cavaradossi is imprisoned and sentenced to death by Scarpia and his henchmen, finally allowing Scarpia to force his hand on the now-vulnerable opera singer, after whom he's long lusted. Scarpia offers to spare Tosca's lover if she allows him to seduce her. She agrees, and Scarpia tells his deputy to arrange a mock execution with blank rounds. As he advances on her, Tosca pulls out a concealed dagger, stabs him, and kills him. She rushes off to Castel Sant'Angelo to witness Cavaradossi's execution. There, she whispers to him that he must pretend to die when the shots ring out, and that after the guards leave, they can flea Rome and live together in peace. The muskets fire, and the guards return to their post, and Cavaradossi lies still on the ground. With hushed voice, Tosca alerts her lover that the time has come for them to depart, but there he lies, still, dead. Scarpia had outsmarted her, and now, she hears the guards return, calling for her arrest. Ever defiant, she swears that she will have her revenge and that she will meet Scarpia in Hell, and the moment before the curtain falls, she jumps off the fortress to her death below. It's an incredible story, a powerful score, and was masterfully performed.
After the opera, we headed back to our friend's place for a few beers, and some much needed sleep. After a big homemade breakfast, the first proper breakfast I've had since leaving home, I headed to my favorite spot in the whole city. I met a new friend at Café Landtmann, the old haunt of Freud, Mahler, Schiele, and Bernhard. With its dark mahogany walls, gilded chandeliers, tall mirrors, white linen tables clothes and deep brown, plush seats, its high ceilings, and its black tie-wearing waiters, walking into Landtmann is like walking back through time. Its massive display of delectable cakes is one of the sweetest sights I've ever seen (ha...ha). Its a place where you can sit forever, enjoying your coffee, reading a paper, listening to music, and my favorite, watching people, and no one will come and bother you or bring your bill without it being requested. We shared a small table in the main room, sipping our melanges, and having a great conversation. I wish we could have spent the whole day there, and, as simple as it was, it was the best part of the whole weekend.
Next, it was off to the Theater-an-der-Wien, an old opera house along the Naschmarkt where Beethoven used to live, and on whose stage many of his works premiered. The U.S. teaching assistants were invited on a tour, and it really was quite the tour. In the house, on the stage, behind the stage, under the stage, and in the network of rooms and hallways throughout. It was fascinating to see the development of the modern opera house, which, in this particular case, was an astonishing fusion of traditional aesthetics and advanced technologies. After our tour, we proceeded to the museum district where our orientation was mid-September when I first arrived. There, we were treated to Glühwein, which is a traditional mulled wine served around Christmastime. From there, a few of us headed through the city to Figlmüller, a famous Viennese restaurant near the Cathedral. On a friend's recommendation, we bypassed the ridiculously long tourist entrance and found the more local entrance around the corner, which got us a table in no time. This place is famous for its schnitzel, which, here, was so large that is was about an inch over the plate on all sides - bar none, the biggest piece of schnitzel I've ever seen, and, oh dear Lord was it good! Schnitzel, potato salad with pumpkin oil (which was also outrageously delicious), and a glass of Grüner Veltliner - textbook Vienna, but it's a stereotype for a reason - it was one of the best meals I've had since arriving. Then, the sleep train ride back to Salzburg.
Today was quiet. Mass, a walk along the river, some grocery shopping, and some work. Despite the shoebox of a room I inhabit, I managed to rearrange a few things, and had a friend over for an early dinner. Mozzarella di Bufala with fresh basil, Frischkäse stuffed cherry peppers, olives, bread, and pasta - almost felt like every other Sunday back home.
This coming week is the first in my life where Christmas starts before Thanksgiving. Being a regular work day here, we won't be able to celebrate Thanksgiving together until Sunday, and the Christmas markets open on turkey day. It's my two favorite holidays in one week!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Autumnal Face
Ever feel that the more you want time to remain still, the quicker it fleets away? I get that feeling a lot. Yesterday, unbelievably, marked 2 months since I've been here in Europe, +1 day since I've last seen home. Where has it gone? What have I accomplished in that time? Have I made the most of this experience thus far? What will the future bring?
Until recently, I had always been a forward thinking person - planning what was to come with incredible detail. And, you know what? - most times, my plans didn't materialize. My expectations for what this year abroad was going to be like, so far, have been completely different from what I've experienced, and all for the better. We have no control over time, and in many circumstances, we have very little control over how our life paves its winding path. And I think, finally realizing that, that life will happen whether it is planned or not, is one of the most satisfying and calming things I've ever actualized. Having accepted that, each new day is truly an adventure, waiting to be explored, waiting to be written in the story of one's life. In the past two months, I've grown as an independent person, I've visited with nearly 1,000 students, I've traveled to 3 countries, I've integrated into a different culture, I've learned a lot, I've seen some incredible things, I've climbed 4 mountains, I've eaten in far too many cafés (everyone's allowed a vice, right?), and I've made more than a handful of friendships with wonderful people, which I am confident will last beyond our time here together. All in all, life is good. It continues to get better with each sunrise, and with every delectable slice of cake (may have a problem developing).
This week was administrative week for sure. Planning my class schedule through Christmas, finishing graduate school applications, soliciting letters of recommendation, writing letters and postcards, starting my seminar project, and catching up on some reading. I found myself in one of several libraries in my off hours, reading interviews with Jews who suffered familial loss immediately after the annexation in '38, and some of the stories are so brutal, that on several occasions I had to leave for a walk. This field is not light reading, and there's very rarely something optimistic. I spent a lot of my time indoors this week, which, in hindsight, was a really good thing, because we hadn't yet been paid since arrival, and pennies saved (and, that is a literal expression here) barely lasted until today's much anticipated paycheck.
Living with such focused attention this week, I hadn't realized that the city of Salzburg had transformed into what promises to be a spectacular Christmas wonderland. Lights and evenly spaced ornaments adorn nearly every street and building in the Altstadt, evergreen trees dot the many squares, the stalls for the famous Christmas markets have been erected and await the thousands of visitors who will find that special gift made by one of the local craftsman. The ice skating rink on Mozartplatz opened last weekend. Roasted chestnuts and Glühwein are sold from cart vendors, people are becoming excited with Christmas anticipation, and there are only two more Sundays until Advent. I've only seen pictures of European Christmas markets, but seeing just the preparation now, I fully know that it will be a magical thing to behold. Cannot wait!
My students are opening up to me, and every day at least one person puts up his hand in the hallway for a high-five, and many know my name. There is no hope of me learning all of their names, but it's nice to recognize a face on the bus, or wave to a student walking home from class. Yesterday, inevitably, I was asked by one of my classes to go to a beer hall with them before Christmas. They're 16 years old. I told them I'd consider their invitation - totally don't know how to correctly respond to that! Last night the other U.S. student and I met an American professor on the Fulbright in southern Hungary for dinner. Really interesting research going on there, and it was nice to talk a bit about the field of education, Bond, and Downton Abbey with a fellow fan. Today was productive, but really relaxed. I had the day off, and researched in the morning, then met with two friends for coffee and cake in one of Salzburg's best, Café Tomaselli. I walked the small mountain behind the Altstadt on my way to meet a classmate, to work on our project. Tonight, being the payday, will be a celebration with the other TAs. Tomorrow, it's off to Vienna after class. Hoping to catch a performance at the Staatsoper and a few beers with an Austrian friend, then meeting a new friend the next morning at my favorite café in Vienna, followed by a tour of "Beethoven's opera house," and the opening of the Karlsplatz Christmas market before taking an evening train back to Salzburg. Lucky doesn't begin to describe it...
Until recently, I had always been a forward thinking person - planning what was to come with incredible detail. And, you know what? - most times, my plans didn't materialize. My expectations for what this year abroad was going to be like, so far, have been completely different from what I've experienced, and all for the better. We have no control over time, and in many circumstances, we have very little control over how our life paves its winding path. And I think, finally realizing that, that life will happen whether it is planned or not, is one of the most satisfying and calming things I've ever actualized. Having accepted that, each new day is truly an adventure, waiting to be explored, waiting to be written in the story of one's life. In the past two months, I've grown as an independent person, I've visited with nearly 1,000 students, I've traveled to 3 countries, I've integrated into a different culture, I've learned a lot, I've seen some incredible things, I've climbed 4 mountains, I've eaten in far too many cafés (everyone's allowed a vice, right?), and I've made more than a handful of friendships with wonderful people, which I am confident will last beyond our time here together. All in all, life is good. It continues to get better with each sunrise, and with every delectable slice of cake (may have a problem developing).
This week was administrative week for sure. Planning my class schedule through Christmas, finishing graduate school applications, soliciting letters of recommendation, writing letters and postcards, starting my seminar project, and catching up on some reading. I found myself in one of several libraries in my off hours, reading interviews with Jews who suffered familial loss immediately after the annexation in '38, and some of the stories are so brutal, that on several occasions I had to leave for a walk. This field is not light reading, and there's very rarely something optimistic. I spent a lot of my time indoors this week, which, in hindsight, was a really good thing, because we hadn't yet been paid since arrival, and pennies saved (and, that is a literal expression here) barely lasted until today's much anticipated paycheck.
 |
| "No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one autumnal face." Elegy XI: The Autumnal - J. Donne |
Living with such focused attention this week, I hadn't realized that the city of Salzburg had transformed into what promises to be a spectacular Christmas wonderland. Lights and evenly spaced ornaments adorn nearly every street and building in the Altstadt, evergreen trees dot the many squares, the stalls for the famous Christmas markets have been erected and await the thousands of visitors who will find that special gift made by one of the local craftsman. The ice skating rink on Mozartplatz opened last weekend. Roasted chestnuts and Glühwein are sold from cart vendors, people are becoming excited with Christmas anticipation, and there are only two more Sundays until Advent. I've only seen pictures of European Christmas markets, but seeing just the preparation now, I fully know that it will be a magical thing to behold. Cannot wait!
My students are opening up to me, and every day at least one person puts up his hand in the hallway for a high-five, and many know my name. There is no hope of me learning all of their names, but it's nice to recognize a face on the bus, or wave to a student walking home from class. Yesterday, inevitably, I was asked by one of my classes to go to a beer hall with them before Christmas. They're 16 years old. I told them I'd consider their invitation - totally don't know how to correctly respond to that! Last night the other U.S. student and I met an American professor on the Fulbright in southern Hungary for dinner. Really interesting research going on there, and it was nice to talk a bit about the field of education, Bond, and Downton Abbey with a fellow fan. Today was productive, but really relaxed. I had the day off, and researched in the morning, then met with two friends for coffee and cake in one of Salzburg's best, Café Tomaselli. I walked the small mountain behind the Altstadt on my way to meet a classmate, to work on our project. Tonight, being the payday, will be a celebration with the other TAs. Tomorrow, it's off to Vienna after class. Hoping to catch a performance at the Staatsoper and a few beers with an Austrian friend, then meeting a new friend the next morning at my favorite café in Vienna, followed by a tour of "Beethoven's opera house," and the opening of the Karlsplatz Christmas market before taking an evening train back to Salzburg. Lucky doesn't begin to describe it...
Saturday, November 10, 2012
A "Thank You" 70 Years in the Making
I woke up this morning to find an internet article about the 237th anniversary of the founding of the United States Marine Corps. Last year on this date, I was privileged to be at the Marines' official ceremony at the Iwo Jima Memorial adjacent to Arlington National Cemetery across from DC. My brother had just arrived at his new post that day in the California desert after completing training. One year ago - tempus fugit. With the whirlwind of patriotism these past few weeks, in the wake of a storm that united a nation, and in the midst of electing arguably the most powerful politician in the world, I am reminded that these strong realizations of American values, of freedom, of choice, of love of country, were hard won through the efforts of millions of brave citizens who fought and continue to fight for the preservation of all that they cherish, of all that we cherish. Today I am sitting in one of the world's prettiest cities, about to spend the afternoon with friends on a leisurely stroll, and the hardest decision I'll have to make today is what type of wine to pair with dinner. Today my brother is sitting in a trench halfway around the world fighting not only for my freedom, but for those of a people he's never met. Every moment - every walk, every truck ride, every meal, every night's sleep, every decision, every breath - every moment could be his last, and knowing that is a terror I will never be able to understand.
Male students here have compulsory military service after high school, and when I explained that my brother had volunteered to serve, it was beyond their grasp. The idea of love of country means something so different here, so incompatible with ours. Many of the students criticize American involvement in foreign affairs, acting as the world's police, getting into situations where many feel we do not belong. At the German conversation course Tuesday afternoon, that point was further emphasized. The instructor prompted a discussion on the elections, and, by extension, the United States. Words cannot describe how awkward it was to sit and hear others from all over the world discuss American policy and politics, and, often in a negative light, I might add. The instructor ended the discussion by a submission wholly opposite to what the class had voiced. He thanked the United States. He said that had the United States not entered World War II, it may well have been that the Nazis retained their influence and that his childhood would have been quite different, quite more oppressive than as it was. He also mentioned the Marshall Plan, in which the U.S. invested billions and billions of dollars to rebuild European economies, the benefits of which he saw directly. There were three of us Americans at the course, and he thanked our grandfathers for their service (this region of Austria was governed by the U.S. Army for ten years after the war), and I thought that was a really nice gesture. Our country's made lots of mistakes in its past, and yes, we are involved in issues all over the world, but I think that our reason for intervening is based in a fundamental desire to give all people the opportunities in life that we enjoy. Ours is not a perfect society, not by a long shot, but we value what we have more than anything else, and for so many throughout the world, their governments give no reason for their people to feel the same way. For however you feel, I believe that wherever the United States goes, it fights the good fight - a fight for justice and freedom, a fight to better lives and to make people happy.
Seeing that Marine Corps article really brought back some feelings of homesickness, especially towards my brother. He's out in the middle of nowhere Afghanistan, and I don't think he's received any of my letters. I keep replaying our last conversation in my head, nearly every day. Out of my parents and I, I was the last to speak with him on the phone. I remember talking about the most superficial things, and then, when we had both run out of things to say, I remember just holding the phone to my ear, neither of us saying a single word for nearly five minutes - I didn't want to say goodbye. He finally broke the silence by saying he had to go, and I tried so damned hard to say "see ya later" and explain just how proud of him I was without crying, but it was just too difficult. And that was it - the next day he shipped out, and later that night, I left for Austria. Tomorrow is Veterans' Day back in the States, and I've never appreciated the commitment of our troops more than I do today. Despite our faults, I'm pretty darn proud of being an American.
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On the school front, I'm still (still) [still] giving my introductory lesson. For fun, my advising teacher and I figured out just how much longer I'd have to do my intro lesson - third week of January. At this rate, I think I'll only need to plan 3 lessons for the entire year! Crazy. The teachers are really warming up to me now, and they're starting to speak German with me in their offices, which I'm really happy about. I'm still having some difficulty with it, but I'm able to express myself, even if its using only elementary terms. One teacher actually asked me (more like begged, really) to bring her a box of Raisin Bran from the U.S. after Christmas - random, but okay! The students greet me in the hallways now, and even though I don't know any of their names, it's a very welcoming gesture. I actually had a conversation with one student on my way to the conversation course - we spoke in German, and he used the formal "Sie," which was pretty amusing. The teachers don't allow me to tell the students that I understand German - they're quite adamant that my position is to teach English, and that's what I am getting paid to do. It's great when the students say something about me under their breath, and I give them "the look." Right then and there, they turn as red as an apple, and they're learning that they can't say much that I wouldn't understand - its empowering! When I enter a classroom, students stand, and I'm addressed as "Herr Schmalz," and sometimes [incorrectly] "Herr Professor." I can get used to this. ;-)
Last night many of us gathered in a friend's apartment to share drinks and play games - great fun! It's a relatively nice, warm day today, and a few of the girls and I will walk along a tree-lined footpath south of the city through farmland, past the house used as the Von Trapp home in the film. The weather's taken a turn for the better, as this week will remain in the 50s during the day - very, very welcome!
Male students here have compulsory military service after high school, and when I explained that my brother had volunteered to serve, it was beyond their grasp. The idea of love of country means something so different here, so incompatible with ours. Many of the students criticize American involvement in foreign affairs, acting as the world's police, getting into situations where many feel we do not belong. At the German conversation course Tuesday afternoon, that point was further emphasized. The instructor prompted a discussion on the elections, and, by extension, the United States. Words cannot describe how awkward it was to sit and hear others from all over the world discuss American policy and politics, and, often in a negative light, I might add. The instructor ended the discussion by a submission wholly opposite to what the class had voiced. He thanked the United States. He said that had the United States not entered World War II, it may well have been that the Nazis retained their influence and that his childhood would have been quite different, quite more oppressive than as it was. He also mentioned the Marshall Plan, in which the U.S. invested billions and billions of dollars to rebuild European economies, the benefits of which he saw directly. There were three of us Americans at the course, and he thanked our grandfathers for their service (this region of Austria was governed by the U.S. Army for ten years after the war), and I thought that was a really nice gesture. Our country's made lots of mistakes in its past, and yes, we are involved in issues all over the world, but I think that our reason for intervening is based in a fundamental desire to give all people the opportunities in life that we enjoy. Ours is not a perfect society, not by a long shot, but we value what we have more than anything else, and for so many throughout the world, their governments give no reason for their people to feel the same way. For however you feel, I believe that wherever the United States goes, it fights the good fight - a fight for justice and freedom, a fight to better lives and to make people happy.
Seeing that Marine Corps article really brought back some feelings of homesickness, especially towards my brother. He's out in the middle of nowhere Afghanistan, and I don't think he's received any of my letters. I keep replaying our last conversation in my head, nearly every day. Out of my parents and I, I was the last to speak with him on the phone. I remember talking about the most superficial things, and then, when we had both run out of things to say, I remember just holding the phone to my ear, neither of us saying a single word for nearly five minutes - I didn't want to say goodbye. He finally broke the silence by saying he had to go, and I tried so damned hard to say "see ya later" and explain just how proud of him I was without crying, but it was just too difficult. And that was it - the next day he shipped out, and later that night, I left for Austria. Tomorrow is Veterans' Day back in the States, and I've never appreciated the commitment of our troops more than I do today. Despite our faults, I'm pretty darn proud of being an American.
.JPG)
On the school front, I'm still (still) [still] giving my introductory lesson. For fun, my advising teacher and I figured out just how much longer I'd have to do my intro lesson - third week of January. At this rate, I think I'll only need to plan 3 lessons for the entire year! Crazy. The teachers are really warming up to me now, and they're starting to speak German with me in their offices, which I'm really happy about. I'm still having some difficulty with it, but I'm able to express myself, even if its using only elementary terms. One teacher actually asked me (more like begged, really) to bring her a box of Raisin Bran from the U.S. after Christmas - random, but okay! The students greet me in the hallways now, and even though I don't know any of their names, it's a very welcoming gesture. I actually had a conversation with one student on my way to the conversation course - we spoke in German, and he used the formal "Sie," which was pretty amusing. The teachers don't allow me to tell the students that I understand German - they're quite adamant that my position is to teach English, and that's what I am getting paid to do. It's great when the students say something about me under their breath, and I give them "the look." Right then and there, they turn as red as an apple, and they're learning that they can't say much that I wouldn't understand - its empowering! When I enter a classroom, students stand, and I'm addressed as "Herr Schmalz," and sometimes [incorrectly] "Herr Professor." I can get used to this. ;-)
Last night many of us gathered in a friend's apartment to share drinks and play games - great fun! It's a relatively nice, warm day today, and a few of the girls and I will walk along a tree-lined footpath south of the city through farmland, past the house used as the Von Trapp home in the film. The weather's taken a turn for the better, as this week will remain in the 50s during the day - very, very welcome!
Sunday, November 4, 2012
In Death, Life
Today was just one of those days where you wanted to sit outside, hoping the sun never had to set. The air was fresh, the sun was warm, and relaxation seemed to have been on everyone's mind. After an early Mass, I walked along the river smelling like incense (which is one of my favorite scents), taking in the way the early morning light cast long shadows on the sleepy Altstadt, contrasting radiant façades with darkened recesses. Orange, yellow, and brown leaves fluttered to their final rest below my feet at the slightest hint of wind, and the green grass appeared like a crystal carpet with the delicate dew expressing the sunshine's spectrum. Pealing Church bells sounded, birds sang their persistent song, and the rushing flow of the Salzach breathed life into what had become a lovely day.
Every day here is a new beginning, a new adventure. Familiar sights continually yield deeper understanding, and beg further exploration. Taking advantage of my surroundings for the time given has proved a rewarding and richly satisfying mandate, allowing me the freedom to discover, to succeed and fail, to become enriched and immersed. Two adages from childhood that have formed my approach to living here are "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," and "He who hesitates is lost." The more I am here, the more I find those statements' truth. Life is about learning, which involves one's fair share of mistakes and troubles, but, in the end, the advantages and opportunities derived from placing oneself outside of his comfort zone far outweigh those of he who is not exploratory, constituting one who is much more aware of himself and the world than the one who closes himself to the world and who does not allow the world to change him.
This week was probably the most relaxing time I've had here since I arrived in Europe 14 September. Tuesday was my last day in school, as Wednesday was a teachers' conference, Thursday and Friday were religious holidays, and I have off Monday. Having so much free time allowed for much needed rest, catching up on applications and writing, and some quality time with friends over dinner or on a day trip. One particular night this weekend, I was joined by two of the teaching assistants' boyfriends, one who lives here in Austria, and another from England - after more than a month, I was a bit overwhelmed for a moment, but I really, really enjoyed their company!
Friday was All Souls' Day, and I went to my Austrian parish Church for a Requiem Mass, to which I was really looking forward. The order of priests who runs this parish have preserved the liturgical celebrations as they existed before the reforms of the mid-20th Century, so Mass is said in Latin, with the priest facing the same direction as the congregation. Its fascinating, and Mass "feels" very different from the norm - I like it a lot, especially as I think I understand more Latin than I do German, which is most of the reason why I've picked this particular Church! After Mass, two priests led the people through the old cemetery, one sprinkling holy water on the surrounding graves, and the other incensing, as we prayed and sang hymns. Seeing the cemetery lit by candlelight, with all the fresh flowers lovingly laid atop graves, smelling the incense, and hearing chanted prayers in an ancient language was certainly an experience that appealed to the senses, but one that also hit home the message behind All Souls' Day. I felt tradition - being apart of something so much bigger than myself, and something that had existed for centuries - an expression of beliefs that had formed how much of Europe once thought, beliefs which still hold true for many abroad. Truly one of the most beautiful ceremonies I've ever witnessed.
Yesterday, a small group of us traveled to Schloss Herrenchiemsee, which is a castle complex built on an island in the center of a large lake in Bavaria. It was built by Ludwig II, whose most famous estate is the extravagant Neuschwanstein (read: inspiration for Disney's Cinderella Castle). Herrenchiemsee is modeled on the Palais Versailles west of Paris, where Ludwig had become enthralled with the French Rococo, and is one of his tamer architectural endeavors. We took a short boat ride to the island, and, as we had arrived only a few hours before sunset, the autumnal colors of the island's flora were just shouting of their beauty. The palace is probably a 1/5 of the size of Versailles, but it was an earnest attempt, and was truly a spectacular site to behold on this tiny island in the middle of quaint Bavaria. It was great fun, and the day ended in a mountainside Italian restaurant back in Salzburg.
As I admire just how incredibly sumptuous the landscape is here, I cannot help but lament the destruction of one of America's most beautiful. Hearing stories of loss and desperation from friends and family, reading accounts of the nightmare that occurred, seeing pictures of the utter devastation that now plagues my home has been not only flatly depressing, but has left me feeling powerless, too far removed, but also lucky (for which I can't help but feel guilty). I remember seeing the wrath of Katrina, sympathizing with its victims, but still not fully understanding just how those people felt. Now, after so many friends and family have directly suffered, I feel what those in the Gulf Coast must have felt then. It pains me, viewing pictures of what was once the beach we went to forever, the boardwalk where I'd get my favorite orange/vanilla ice cream, the lots where friends' houses used to stand, rides I used to go on, roads on which I used to drive with the windows down, taking in the salt air and the smell of summer, favorite restaurants, parks, paths, and hang-outs, all gone or damaged beyond recognition. It's where I grew up, where all my memories are from, and where a big part of my heart remains, and to see it in this state, in what my uncle describes "looks like a bomb went off," hurts in every bone of my body. Not being there with everyone is killing me, and under a lot of forced smiles this week, it's been very, very difficult trying to focus on my life here. For people who grew up there, the Jersey Shore isn't so much a place as it is a way of life. Flip-flops and Ray-Bans, pastel colors, and sand always on the floor of your car, pork roll, egg, and cheese sandwiches, taking local roads instead of the GSP, taking life as it comes, knowing you're one of the luckiest guys in the world because your home is a place people travel high and lo to come to for vacation, and living for the sound of the ocean crashing against your favorite beach. Losing so much of the Shore feels like losing a friend - for so many of us, the Shore was the foundation for growing up, a way of life that will never leave us. Its a passionate relationship, one forged from birth, one that is the reason the Shore will resurrect - it will come back better than ever because of the love people have for the Shore. Its a part of us, and we of it, and that is why this destruction hurts so much - its personal.
Every day here is a new beginning, a new adventure. Familiar sights continually yield deeper understanding, and beg further exploration. Taking advantage of my surroundings for the time given has proved a rewarding and richly satisfying mandate, allowing me the freedom to discover, to succeed and fail, to become enriched and immersed. Two adages from childhood that have formed my approach to living here are "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," and "He who hesitates is lost." The more I am here, the more I find those statements' truth. Life is about learning, which involves one's fair share of mistakes and troubles, but, in the end, the advantages and opportunities derived from placing oneself outside of his comfort zone far outweigh those of he who is not exploratory, constituting one who is much more aware of himself and the world than the one who closes himself to the world and who does not allow the world to change him.
This week was probably the most relaxing time I've had here since I arrived in Europe 14 September. Tuesday was my last day in school, as Wednesday was a teachers' conference, Thursday and Friday were religious holidays, and I have off Monday. Having so much free time allowed for much needed rest, catching up on applications and writing, and some quality time with friends over dinner or on a day trip. One particular night this weekend, I was joined by two of the teaching assistants' boyfriends, one who lives here in Austria, and another from England - after more than a month, I was a bit overwhelmed for a moment, but I really, really enjoyed their company!
Friday was All Souls' Day, and I went to my Austrian parish Church for a Requiem Mass, to which I was really looking forward. The order of priests who runs this parish have preserved the liturgical celebrations as they existed before the reforms of the mid-20th Century, so Mass is said in Latin, with the priest facing the same direction as the congregation. Its fascinating, and Mass "feels" very different from the norm - I like it a lot, especially as I think I understand more Latin than I do German, which is most of the reason why I've picked this particular Church! After Mass, two priests led the people through the old cemetery, one sprinkling holy water on the surrounding graves, and the other incensing, as we prayed and sang hymns. Seeing the cemetery lit by candlelight, with all the fresh flowers lovingly laid atop graves, smelling the incense, and hearing chanted prayers in an ancient language was certainly an experience that appealed to the senses, but one that also hit home the message behind All Souls' Day. I felt tradition - being apart of something so much bigger than myself, and something that had existed for centuries - an expression of beliefs that had formed how much of Europe once thought, beliefs which still hold true for many abroad. Truly one of the most beautiful ceremonies I've ever witnessed.
Yesterday, a small group of us traveled to Schloss Herrenchiemsee, which is a castle complex built on an island in the center of a large lake in Bavaria. It was built by Ludwig II, whose most famous estate is the extravagant Neuschwanstein (read: inspiration for Disney's Cinderella Castle). Herrenchiemsee is modeled on the Palais Versailles west of Paris, where Ludwig had become enthralled with the French Rococo, and is one of his tamer architectural endeavors. We took a short boat ride to the island, and, as we had arrived only a few hours before sunset, the autumnal colors of the island's flora were just shouting of their beauty. The palace is probably a 1/5 of the size of Versailles, but it was an earnest attempt, and was truly a spectacular site to behold on this tiny island in the middle of quaint Bavaria. It was great fun, and the day ended in a mountainside Italian restaurant back in Salzburg.
As I admire just how incredibly sumptuous the landscape is here, I cannot help but lament the destruction of one of America's most beautiful. Hearing stories of loss and desperation from friends and family, reading accounts of the nightmare that occurred, seeing pictures of the utter devastation that now plagues my home has been not only flatly depressing, but has left me feeling powerless, too far removed, but also lucky (for which I can't help but feel guilty). I remember seeing the wrath of Katrina, sympathizing with its victims, but still not fully understanding just how those people felt. Now, after so many friends and family have directly suffered, I feel what those in the Gulf Coast must have felt then. It pains me, viewing pictures of what was once the beach we went to forever, the boardwalk where I'd get my favorite orange/vanilla ice cream, the lots where friends' houses used to stand, rides I used to go on, roads on which I used to drive with the windows down, taking in the salt air and the smell of summer, favorite restaurants, parks, paths, and hang-outs, all gone or damaged beyond recognition. It's where I grew up, where all my memories are from, and where a big part of my heart remains, and to see it in this state, in what my uncle describes "looks like a bomb went off," hurts in every bone of my body. Not being there with everyone is killing me, and under a lot of forced smiles this week, it's been very, very difficult trying to focus on my life here. For people who grew up there, the Jersey Shore isn't so much a place as it is a way of life. Flip-flops and Ray-Bans, pastel colors, and sand always on the floor of your car, pork roll, egg, and cheese sandwiches, taking local roads instead of the GSP, taking life as it comes, knowing you're one of the luckiest guys in the world because your home is a place people travel high and lo to come to for vacation, and living for the sound of the ocean crashing against your favorite beach. Losing so much of the Shore feels like losing a friend - for so many of us, the Shore was the foundation for growing up, a way of life that will never leave us. Its a passionate relationship, one forged from birth, one that is the reason the Shore will resurrect - it will come back better than ever because of the love people have for the Shore. Its a part of us, and we of it, and that is why this destruction hurts so much - its personal.
 |
| Of blessed memory. |
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
"Nothing Gold Can Stay"
It's not often that I can't find the words to express something, but this time, Hurricane Sandy's taken the cake. Several friends stayed in a homeless shelter last night because their houses were either flooded or swept off their foundation. Thousands of boats were pulled out to sea. The boardwalk at my favorite beach was dragged into the Atlantic, sand covers the streets 1/2 mile inland, the beaches and dunes are gone. A floating house knocked out a local bridge. Family and friends are without electricity, which means also heat, along with 95% of Monmouth and Ocean Counties. So many familiar roads are now 4 feet under water. An iconic restaurant stands destroyed. Helicopters rescue people who did not evacuate in time. Half of a local amusement pier was ripped off. Cars floated down streets, trees are downed everywhere, and the state along the Shore has effectively shut down. Governor Christie cancelled Halloween, and the President will visit this afternoon. Lower Manhattan is also flooded, filling the subway tunnels and the unfinished World Trade Center plaza with seawater. Some areas of the business district are 13 feet under water. It is estimated that up to 5 million people are without electricity, with no hope of it being restored within 7 days. People are trapped in their workplaces, and a friend travels from friend to friend, trying to find a working power outlet and food. Thousands wait at gas stations, to purchase fuel for their generators. Train tracks along the Northeast Corridor were washed away, and train cars were pushed onto a major highway, which is also closed. Harbors were destroyed to the point where they are unrecognizable, a favorite park is now a military emergency command center, and there are billions of dollars worth of damage. Unreal. It is unreal that, within the course of a day, one of the most beautiful locations along the East Coast, my childhood home, can be turned overnight into what looks like a devastated war zone.
Having the same the indomitable spirit and Shore pride as the residents who live along the battered coast, I know that the challenge of rebuilding and restoring life to as it was will be a task assumed with enthusiastic effort, fortitude, and great strength. God Bless the Jersey Shore.
From the Shore's native son, the Boss:
Having the same the indomitable spirit and Shore pride as the residents who live along the battered coast, I know that the challenge of rebuilding and restoring life to as it was will be a task assumed with enthusiastic effort, fortitude, and great strength. God Bless the Jersey Shore.
From the Shore's native son, the Boss:
Saturday, October 27, 2012
The Unnoticed Most Important Day in Austria
If you were one of the thousands of foreign visitors in Salzburg today, some closed shops may have been the only indication that something was occurring in Austria. I particularly enjoyed the mini federal flags flying from the tops of the city's buses. Cute, but a bit underwhelming. And so passes the big national holiday. That student's explanation for Austrians' lack of visible patriotism served as a stinging reminder throughout the day of the troubles this nation's faced in recent times. If anything, it helps me to appreciate ever more my home. I dare not say that Americans sacrificed more than Austrians for what we enjoy, because I doubt that is the case, but the freedom that we hold to celebrate our country's accomplishments and the lives we've built, enriched by the values upon which the United States was founded, is something that many other nations do not, cannot, claim. In what has become a recurring theme in my few weeks here among Austrian students, I am not only learning quite a bit about this country, but more about my home - living in another culture grants an awareness of one's own that is all too absent while in its presence. The more and more I am here, I fall ever deeper in love with this culture, landscape, and people, but I also ever increasingly realize that the only place I can ever call home, the place where I'd rather live than any other, the place I could never leave, is America.
Thursday evening started the holiday weekend, and an interesting start it was. A dozen of us went to a local beer hall in the Altstadt, Sternbräu, for dinner and drinks. For 99.9% of my time here, being the only guy in the group has been heavenly. Well, things turned a bit Thursday night. Essentially, I was schooled on how to be a proper English primary school girl. Television shows, hands games, rhymes, celebrities, flirting schemes, clothes, bands, fads, and the lot. Having not listened to a Spice Girls song before these most recent Olympics is sinful...mea culpa. If I understood correctly, did you know that girls can tell how many boyfriends one of their friends has by holding a hand over that girl's head? Or that some piece of paper with 4 things written on it can determine who you'll marry and what type of home you'll own? I thought magic was relegated to the world of Harry Potter, but girls seem to have an in, as far as this is concerned. Apparently, my boyish childhood was void of many of the wonders of life. I'm now determined to get a haircut every 3 weeks, because I'm dreadfully afraid that if I let it grow out, they may just try to braid my hair. I did learn a lot, though - mainly, that being a boy was much less fretful than being a girl!
Friday morning, I had an appointment with the owner of a coat making firm just east of Salzburg in a village named Elixhausen. I've been on the search for what's called a Lodenmantel (a traditional top coat of sorts, made from alpaca wool and cashmere) from this region of Europe. It's dark green, finishes just below the knee, and has been through a customary process that makes for a coat that's water resistant, lightweight, breathable, and incredibly warm. I took a bus to the village, then walked a ways to this workshop, which is actually in the owner's basement/garage. There, he and several others hand make the coats to the wearer's specifications right there, as they've been doing for generations. I had sent him my measurements last week, and he had several samples with varying stylistic touches for me to try. Surprisingly, the first try fit like a glove, and I walked away a very satisfied customer - and just in the nick of time, as Salzburg's in for a few inches of snow this weekend.
Winter is not something to which I'm looking forward here. My memories of Salzburg in February 2011 will forever haunt me. All I can recollect is cold feet for a month, a room heater on it's last leg, blue fingertips under gloves, blistery wind, snow, snow, snow. I imagine Antarctica is about the same. Those were the days I wished I never had to leave my bed, when the sun shone for only 6 hours a day, when a hot chocolate and the glimmer of hope that warmth would someday return were the only two things that kept me going. The snow is predicted to start falling tomorrow afternoon. I was bemoaning to several of the younger teachers at my school about the forecast, and they just smiled and said "we're supposed to get more snow this winter than since the war." We were not amused. As Gandalf said so many times, "and so it begins."
Friday evening, the team who could not keep up with our group's superior intellect, as displayed in our Quiz Night victory, made a retributive dinner. More than a dozen came, as well as a few out-of-towners (don't worry, no other guys in sight), for a night of so many laughs, good company, and a terrific meal. The main course was sort of like chili, which was outrageously good, and the perfect accompaniment to this cold night - warmed us right up! Austrian food is amazing, don't get me wrong, but I would venture to say that it doesn't quite put up a good fight in the ring of diverse gastronomical offerings. Austrian cuisine is essentially meat on a plate, any way you like it, with potatoes. Aside from my mom's pasta, the perfectly cooked Wiener Schnitzel may be my favorite meal, but it's not something I could eat every day (believe me, I've tried). The "kitchenette" situation in my flat is far from ideal, too. Not having an oven severely limits my cooking capabilities, and the combination of long days and limited/different selection in the supermarket leads to often uninspired (read: boring) dinners. Not to mention, due to the layout of my building, communal dining is not an option. That being said, not only was tonight a welcome dinner, but it was yet another opportunity to be with my extended Austrian family, which is surely what the girls are becoming. I must say, sometimes the looks we get at restaurants entertaining (1 guy and 10+ girls), but at this point in the game, there are no reservations about it (unless you count the present threat of having my hair braided). We've been meeting for mid-week drinks, going to dinner, day trips on weekends, and we've just tonight planned an outing to see the new Bond film (in English!!!!) on its Austrian premiere. Very grateful, and very much excited for the rest of our time together.
Thursday evening started the holiday weekend, and an interesting start it was. A dozen of us went to a local beer hall in the Altstadt, Sternbräu, for dinner and drinks. For 99.9% of my time here, being the only guy in the group has been heavenly. Well, things turned a bit Thursday night. Essentially, I was schooled on how to be a proper English primary school girl. Television shows, hands games, rhymes, celebrities, flirting schemes, clothes, bands, fads, and the lot. Having not listened to a Spice Girls song before these most recent Olympics is sinful...mea culpa. If I understood correctly, did you know that girls can tell how many boyfriends one of their friends has by holding a hand over that girl's head? Or that some piece of paper with 4 things written on it can determine who you'll marry and what type of home you'll own? I thought magic was relegated to the world of Harry Potter, but girls seem to have an in, as far as this is concerned. Apparently, my boyish childhood was void of many of the wonders of life. I'm now determined to get a haircut every 3 weeks, because I'm dreadfully afraid that if I let it grow out, they may just try to braid my hair. I did learn a lot, though - mainly, that being a boy was much less fretful than being a girl!
Friday morning, I had an appointment with the owner of a coat making firm just east of Salzburg in a village named Elixhausen. I've been on the search for what's called a Lodenmantel (a traditional top coat of sorts, made from alpaca wool and cashmere) from this region of Europe. It's dark green, finishes just below the knee, and has been through a customary process that makes for a coat that's water resistant, lightweight, breathable, and incredibly warm. I took a bus to the village, then walked a ways to this workshop, which is actually in the owner's basement/garage. There, he and several others hand make the coats to the wearer's specifications right there, as they've been doing for generations. I had sent him my measurements last week, and he had several samples with varying stylistic touches for me to try. Surprisingly, the first try fit like a glove, and I walked away a very satisfied customer - and just in the nick of time, as Salzburg's in for a few inches of snow this weekend.
Winter is not something to which I'm looking forward here. My memories of Salzburg in February 2011 will forever haunt me. All I can recollect is cold feet for a month, a room heater on it's last leg, blue fingertips under gloves, blistery wind, snow, snow, snow. I imagine Antarctica is about the same. Those were the days I wished I never had to leave my bed, when the sun shone for only 6 hours a day, when a hot chocolate and the glimmer of hope that warmth would someday return were the only two things that kept me going. The snow is predicted to start falling tomorrow afternoon. I was bemoaning to several of the younger teachers at my school about the forecast, and they just smiled and said "we're supposed to get more snow this winter than since the war." We were not amused. As Gandalf said so many times, "and so it begins."
Friday evening, the team who could not keep up with our group's superior intellect, as displayed in our Quiz Night victory, made a retributive dinner. More than a dozen came, as well as a few out-of-towners (don't worry, no other guys in sight), for a night of so many laughs, good company, and a terrific meal. The main course was sort of like chili, which was outrageously good, and the perfect accompaniment to this cold night - warmed us right up! Austrian food is amazing, don't get me wrong, but I would venture to say that it doesn't quite put up a good fight in the ring of diverse gastronomical offerings. Austrian cuisine is essentially meat on a plate, any way you like it, with potatoes. Aside from my mom's pasta, the perfectly cooked Wiener Schnitzel may be my favorite meal, but it's not something I could eat every day (believe me, I've tried). The "kitchenette" situation in my flat is far from ideal, too. Not having an oven severely limits my cooking capabilities, and the combination of long days and limited/different selection in the supermarket leads to often uninspired (read: boring) dinners. Not to mention, due to the layout of my building, communal dining is not an option. That being said, not only was tonight a welcome dinner, but it was yet another opportunity to be with my extended Austrian family, which is surely what the girls are becoming. I must say, sometimes the looks we get at restaurants entertaining (1 guy and 10+ girls), but at this point in the game, there are no reservations about it (unless you count the present threat of having my hair braided). We've been meeting for mid-week drinks, going to dinner, day trips on weekends, and we've just tonight planned an outing to see the new Bond film (in English!!!!) on its Austrian premiere. Very grateful, and very much excited for the rest of our time together.
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